This Matter Of Marriage. Debbie Macomber
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did at least look mildly guilty. “You’re right, I should’ve, only…I didn’t want to give you an excuse to cancel. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance.”
Hallie sighed deeply. “Let’s be honest with each other from now on, okay?”
“Scout’s honor.”
“You were a scout?”
He shook his head. “Nah, they were a bunch of sissies, far as I was concerned.”
“I see,” she muttered, and gazed yearningly toward the front door. The evening could prove to be a very long one indeed.
“So you’re divorced,” Tom said, then thanked the cocktail waitress with a wink and a quarter tip. It took him a moment to turn his attention back to Hallie.
“No, Chad must have misunderstood. I’ve never been married.”
She’d say one thing for Tom. He had the most expressive eyebrows she’d ever seen. Right now, they rose all the way to his hairline. “Never married. What’s the matter with you?”
“The matter?”
“There’s gotta be a reason a pretty gal like you never married. Well, never mind, I’m going to take good care of you, sweetie pie. You and me are gonna have fun.”
Hallie sincerely doubted that. “The name is Hallie,” she reminded him, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Not cupcake or sweetie pie or anything else.”
He gulped down his double martini and raised his glass in the direction of the bar to signal for another. “Whatever you say, darlin’.”
Hallie ground her teeth in an effort to maintain her composure. “How long have you been selling medical equipment?” she asked, striving to sound interested.
“I don’t. Now before you get all upset again, I didn’t lie. I work for the same company as Chad, only on the pharmaceutical side. I sell condoms.”
A lump of ice went down her throat whole. “Condoms?” she choked.
“Yep. We’ve got ’em in all kinds of flavors. Our flavor for February is cotton candy. We’ve got ’em in all colors, too.” He stared at her intently, and Hallie shuddered. “White’s the top seller, though. Can you believe it? Why would anyone choose white over candy-apple red?”
“I couldn’t tell you.” Hallie slid a guarded look in both directions, praying no one could hear their conversation. “Do you mind if we discuss something else?”
“Sure,” he responded amiably. “I do a brisk business in laxatives, as well. Won the top salesman award two years running.” He laughed as if what he’d said was uproariously funny. “Laxatives…running. Get it?”
Ha. Ha. Ha. “No,” she said flatly. Hallie’s head was starting to pound in earnest now, and she knew she couldn’t go through with this. Even if she ended up paying for a meal she didn’t eat, she couldn’t stand another minute in this man’s company. “Tom, listen, I’m really sorry, but this isn’t going to work.” She set her napkin on the table and reached for her purse.
He assumed a hurt little-boy look. “Not going to work? What do you mean?”
“I was expecting to meet Chad Ellis, not you.”
“Gee, I thought we were getting along just great. What’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.”
“In this instance I think it might be best to leave well enough alone.”
“But I thought, you know, that you and I would get together later.” He did that jiggling thing with his eyebrows again.
“Get together?”
“You know. In bed.”
“Bed?” She said it loudly enough to attract the attention of the maître d’. “Let me assure you right now,” she hissed, “that I’m not interested in going to bed with you.”
“That’s not what Chad said.”
“What did Chad say?” Bonnie was going to hear about this.
“That you were hot for a real man—and, baby, I’m the one for you. I can teach you things you ain’t never gonna see in a textbook. I haven’t been in the condom business all these years without learning a few tricks of the trade, if you catch my drift.”
His drift came straight off a garbage heap, in Hallie’s view. “I don’t know what to say, Tom. You’ve been misinformed. I’m not even mildly lukewarm as far as you’re concerned, and I’m not interested in any of your…lessons.”
“You mean you were willing to let me wine and dine you—but you weren’t gonna give me anything? I thought this was a bread-and-bed date.”
“What I’ll give you is money for my meal.” She pulled out her wallet and threw a fifty-dollar bill on the table. Her fingers tightened around her purse strap. “Good night, Tom. I wish you well.” She couldn’t in good faith tell him it had been a pleasure to meet him. It had been an experience she didn’t want to repeat. An experience she wasn’t likely to forget. No more blind dates, she swore to herself. It wasn’t only discouraging, it was getting too expensive.
“Good riddance. I’ll find a real woman, one who knows how to satisfy a man.” She noticed that he snatched up the money and shoved it in his pocket.
As Hallie walked out of the restaurant, she felt every eye in the place on her.
“Would you like me to call you a taxi?” the receptionist asked.
Hallie nodded, then with a sinking sensation, she checked to be sure she had enough cash to cover the fare. No, that fifty was all she’d had—and her pride wouldn’t allow her to run back to Tom Chedders and demand change. It looked like she was going to need another loan from Steve.
“Your cab will be here in a few minutes,” the receptionist told her with a sympathetic smile.
“Thanks.” She glanced toward the door, groaning at the thought that Steve might not be home. She’d better phone him first.
Not knowing his phone number, she called directory assistance. The way her luck was going, she was afraid he’d have an unlisted number. But the operator found it and Hallie released a sigh of relief.
Steve answered on the first ring in a lazy I’ve-been-sitting-here-waiting-for-your-call voice.
“Hi,” she said, deciding to ease into the subject of another loan, rather than blurting out the sorry details and throwing herself on his mercy.
“Hi,” he responded.
Hallie suspected he didn’t recognize her voice. “It’s Hallie, from next door.”
“Yeah, I know.” He chuckled. “Wouldn’t it be easier to stick your head out the kitchen window and yell?”
“I’m not at home. I went out on another blind date.”
“Not with that same jerk?”
“No—I found an entirely new jerk. I just walked out on him and I don’t have enough cash for the cab fare home. Could I take out another loan?” It humiliated her to ask, but she had no option. “This’ll be the last time it ever happens, I promise you.”
“Where are you?”
“Some restaurant—I don’t know where.” Dumb. Next time she’d pay attention. Next time she’d bring her own car.
“I’ll come and get you.”
“No.” That was the last thing she wanted. “I appreciate the offer, but I refuse to let you go to that trouble.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
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